Voices of Reason
by Mayushii
Summary: Castiel has made sacrifices.  A few of them come back to chat with him and turn him in the right direction.  Hints of Destiel, spoilers for the end of Season 6.


Voices of Reason

by Mayushii

All copyright materials are property of their respective owners.

A/N: I reposted this story because there seems to have been some sort of problem with it when I posted last time. Anyway, here it is (again).

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><p>Voices of Reason<p>

The Garden is quiet.

It has always been a quiet place, but never like this. This is not peaceful. There are no whispers between the flowers and trees, no distant sounds of song and silvery laughter. It is dead silent.

I stand in the Garden, still as a statue, and reach out to stroke a large fern. My fingers come back soaked with blood. The leaves of the plant are covered with the innards of an angel. I'm not sure which of my brothers it is; their insides all look the same to me. Down the path, I can see Joshua using a garden sprayer to clean the gore from a tree trunk. He hadn't followed me, but he hadn't followed Raphael, either. I am more merciful than my predecessor…I won't kill him or expel him from Heaven because he didn't want to fight.

_Why not? You killed me, and I followed you._

I twitch slightly, squinting just a little. Then I whip around. My eyes go wide with surprise before narrowing sharply.

"Balthazar," I rumble, glaring slightly at my old friend…the one who betrayed me at the last moment, just hours before my triumph.

_You remember me, _Balthazar says lightly. He looks just as he did before his death, every line in his face, every strand of short, tousled blond hair the same. His hands are buried deep in his trouser pockets and a small smile stretches across his lips. _I'm touched, really._

"You're dead."

_Yes. And thanks to you, no longer in Purgatory. I barely got through the door before your little ritual dragged me back out. Always had a feeling I'd end up inside you someday_, he jokes. The smile on my old friend's face fades a little, and then he pulls his hands from his pockets with a sigh. _Oh, Castiel… What have you gotten yourself into this time?_

"I had to do it," I insist. He shouldn't be here. I killed him—stabbed him through the heart, in fact. Even if I did pull his soul from Purgatory along with all the others, it isn't possible for him to be standing here with me. His soul is trapped inside my body. I suppose it's just easier for my mind to project him this way, like a ghost, rather than try to interpret him while he's inside me. He certainly looks real as he puts his hands on his hips and shakes his bowed head.

_You don't get it, do you. We could have found a way, together. And even if we couldn't… _He looks back up at me, blue-gray eyes surprisingly gentle. It's not the look I would expect from a person I killed days ago. _Purgatory isn't that bad. It's peaceful. A little boring, and some of the people up there mope around, but it's not bad. You could have just let go._

"And let Raphael turn the Earth into a graveyard?" I demand. "No, Balthazar. I did the right thing."

_Oh, come on!_

I spin around again, trench coat swirling around me. I'm greeted by the image of another dead angel. At least I didn't kill this one, though I still feel a twinge of guilt over his death.

_You can tell yourself it was the right thing all you want, it don't make it true_, Gabriel states, his eyebrows raised at me. He's sitting on the back of a bench (perhaps he feels that sitting on the seat would put him too far below my level). I watch as he takes a candy bar from his pocket, tears off the wrapper, and breaks off a piece with his teeth. _It's the little things, you know? _he says through a mouthful of nougat. _One big good thing isn't made up of a bunch of little bad things. Even I coulda told you that. _Gabriel swallows thickly. _I didn't exactly lead the most noble life, but in the end I showed my stuff. Faced Lucifer, died a hero's death… You'd be surprised how popular martyrdom makes you with the ladies upstairs. And what I don't get is, if I can make a sacrifice like that, why can't you?_

"I have made sacrifices," I say flatly.

_Yes, we know that. We_ _**were** the sacrifices. _Rachel speaks from somewhere behind me. I can't bring myself to look at her. I killed her, too, and she was one of the angels who were most loyal to me. But she turned against me when she discovered my war machine. She tried to kill me. I shouldn't feel guilty over her death, no more than I should feel guilty for Balthazar's. _We don't blame you, Castiel. We still have so much faith in you. You're not a bad person, just…misguided. Can't you admit that what you're doing is wrong?_

"I wasn't wrong!" I clench my fists tightly at my sides, but there's no one to strike out against. I've already destroyed everyone who stood in my way. They are dead. All of them… "I did this for all of you. If you had just…just trusted me…"

_We did trust you. _Balthazar speaks again. _But we have to draw the line somewhere. You crossed that line. Of course we tried to stop you._

A hand on my shoulder makes me jump. It feels so real, but I know it isn't. I try to reassure myself that he's dead, that he doesn't actually have a body, let alone hands. It's all my imagination.

_We wanted to help you, _Balthazar says, very gently. _I'd rather see you dead, than fallen._

"I haven't fallen." My voice resonates clearly. "I have become God."

_You aren't God, Castiel! _Rachel cries. _An angel cannot be God!_

The sky above the Garden darkens, rumbling with thunder. Balthazar coughs nervously.

_Okay, fine. So let's say, for the sake of argument, that you have become God. Why did you really do it? Not for us. We were incidental. _The hand on my shoulder lifts and Balthazar circles around to stand in front of me instead. He peers into my eyes from only inches away. _Castiel. We have touched your soul. We know why you really did it._

For the first time in my very, very long life, I feel something like shame creep up my neck and across my face. It burns uncomfortably on my skin.

_Oh, and that blush? Dead giveaway, _Gabriel adds unhelpfully.

"I—" I'm blushing? God does not blush. "I don't—" I don't know what to say. God always knows what to say. "It wasn't like…"

I feel their eyes on me, watching as I come undone. I am not God, and deep down we all know it. Standing there before my older siblings, claiming to be our Father, makes me feel utterly ridiculous. I can't hide the truth from them. They know what I did…the worst thing I did. It wasn't working with Crowley, it wasn't using the souls of the dead, it wasn't lying to the people who trusted me most.

The worst thing I did, was simply being selfish. Not once had I acted out of a desire to save the world. I had opened the gates of Purgatory, made myself God, to protect a few favored humans—no… Just one. One human, a man who has worked his way into my consciousness more effectively than any soul. I feel such loyalty toward him, such admiration…such love. And I wanted so, so badly, to make him feel the same for me. I thought that he might look at me the way I look at him, if I could just prove myself… Some part of me _wanted _Dean to be in danger, just so I could protect him.

I feel filthy.

_You did everything for your precious human, _Balthazar says, no judgment in his voice despite the gravity of my sins. _It's not that bad. We all have little selfish impulses that we like to indulge, and he is yours. _His eyes are far more steady, far more serious than I've ever seen them. _But how do you expect to keep him safe when you lose control of your body?_

I feel my eyebrows knit together with confusion. He sees the shift in my expression and sighs.

_Look, Castiel. You have all these souls inside your body. Angels, monsters, demons… Every sentient, nonhuman being that has ever died. You only have control of your vessel now because you have the most spiritual strength of all of us. Your soul is the most…complete. But that won't last. The demons within you can overpower you if they work together, and they're already gaining ground. Castiel, I'm begging you… Let us go before they take control._

A slight tremble runs through my body, and I take a shaky step backward. Balthazar's eyes go wide and Gabriel leaps forward off his bench. I feel Rachel's steadying hands on my shoulders.

_You can still turn back, _Rachel coaxes. _Please, Castiel. There's still time._

"I…" Something is starting to push at the edges of my consciousness. "I can't. How am I supposed to protect anyone if I lose this strength…?"

_Forget that! How are **we** supposed to keep protecting **you**? _Gabriel answers with a question. _Kiddo, we've been doing our best to hold back the demons inside you, but there's only so long we can fight. The demons are going to sink their dirty claws in you, no doubt about it. For your own sake? Get them the heck out of you, fast._

I drag a hand over my face, feeling the damp of sweat on my skin. I'm scared. I'm weak. I'm not ready. I should be ready, but I'm not.

Rachel's hands slip down from my shoulders, arms moving to loop around my chest and embrace me from behind. _You can be strong on your own. I have faith in you. Just have a little faith in yourself…_

My eyes shut tightly. I wish it were that simple. I wish I could have faith in myself. I want it even more than Dean's love, but I _can't _believe in myself unless he does. Without my Father to guide me, Dean has become something like…something like another God to me. I have become so very dependant on him…

_Castiel? _Balthazar says quietly. _I'm sorry, but we have to leave you now. You know what to do. Good luck._

"Wait!"

I open my eyes, hand already reaching out toward his voice. The three angels have disappeared without even a flap of wings. I look around the Garden, feeling lost without my siblings. Had they really been here, or had it just been my imagination?

"Castiel?" I turn to see Joshua watching me, the garden sprayer in his hand and a slightly concerned look on his face. "Are you feeling okay?"

"Yeah," I say gruffly, rubbing a hand over my eyes. I motion to the plants around me with one unsteady hand. "There's…blood."

"Yes, I think I noticed that," Joshua says mildly. He aims the sprayer at the large fern, and I watch as pink-tinted water falls like rain from the plant's leaves. Cleaning up the scene of the murder is almost effortless. I wonder if it's as easy to wash blood from an angel's hands. Surely not.

But somehow, I do feel a little less tainted.

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><p>AN: Very quickly written and not terribly well done, but it got across most of what I wanted. I hope at least someone out there enjoyed it. -_-; If you have another moment to spare, please review!


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